


winter herbs

by glim



Series: happy steve bingo fills [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, De-Serumed Steve Rogers, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Post-Endgame, Sleepy Cuddles, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-14 20:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20853836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: He kisses Steve again, long and slow on the mouth, and thinks of snow and small, green, growing things.





	winter herbs

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Happy Steve Bingo 2019 and the prompt 'gardening.'

The day after Christmas, Bucky wakes up before dawn. Half-asleep, he presses a kiss to Steve's shoulder, then another, and smiles when he feels Steve groan into his pillow. The sun hasn't risen and the winter morning is cold and grey and Bucky imagines he can already feel the promise of snow in the air. 

"Don't get up," Steve mumbles, his words muffled by the nest of blankets on their bed. "S'early. Buck..." 

"Gonna get breakfast, then get back in bed." Bucky kisses the point of Steve's shoulder again, murmurs a soft endearment against his bare skin, then smiles when Steve's too sleepy to manage any more words in reply. 

When Steve curls himself up under their blankets and around both his and Bucky's pillow, Bucky curls him up around Steve for a few more minutes of that deep, sleepy warmth. He nuzzles into the back of Steve's neck to draw in the scent of his skin. By the time Bucky's ready to slip out of bed, Steve's asleep. His eyelashes brush a soft gold against the rise of his cheekbones and he makes a tiny, pleased sound in his sleep when Bucky strokes his hair. 

Dressing quickly is easy enough when it's so cold outside; Bucky pulls on sweats and a tee shirt, a cardigan and a knit scarf, a haphazard assortment of his warmest clothes to get him through a half-hour in the early morning chill. He pulls his hair back, too, though he knows Steve will slip the hair tie out as soon as he can to stroke his fingers through Bucky's hair. 

That's the thought that gets Bucky outside and down to the corner cafe, that warms through his senses as he gets breakfast sandwiches and potatoes and orders two large mochas. It's still Christmas, he decides, and glances down at the seed packets on display by the counter. 

Peppermint, parsley, and thyme--he buys them all for Steve, slips them into his coat pocket, and makes plans to get the leftover potting soil out later that day. These are all the things his guy loves: plants and sweet coffee, wintertime sketches, and long, winter mornings in bed. 

The sun's starting to rise on Bucky's walk home through their little neighborhood; the smokey tang of snow is still in the air, though, and he wouldn't be surprised if they had a few inches by sunset. Weak, pale rays of sunlight stripe through the bedroom when he gets home, and Bucky sets their breakfast on the bed before he slips back beneath the blankets. 

Steve nestles back in close to him, too, tucking his smaller body against Bucky's as warm and close as possible. 

"You're not allowed to get back up again," he declares. His gold-blond hair's mess and his blue eyes are still hazy with sleep, his smile is soft, lazy, pliant against Bucky's mouth when they kiss. 

"I won't. Not until afternoon, anyway." Before he unwraps their food, Bucky lays the seed packets on the blankets, arraying them like cards before Steve. "I got you these. They reminded me of you." 

"Oh... they're perfect." Steve fingers the edge of the packets and the smile touches his lips again. "We can have a small garden that grows through the winter." 

Bucky uses the tip of one finger to brush Steve's hair back off his forehead. He has the same hair again, the same bump on his nose, the same narrow, pointy shoulders, the same slim, strong wrists and talented hands. He lost nothing when he lost the effects of the serum; he lost nothing when he gave up the shield and title of Captain America. 

"Yeah, I want that, too, Stevie." Bucky says. He kisses Steve again, long and slow on the mouth, and thinks of snow and small, green, growing things.


End file.
